8932 Book(s) Related to contracted to the nhl superstar

Abandoned as a stand-in wife and discarded the moment his first love returned, Eva Joseph was supposed to fade away quietly. Instead, the meek housewife vanished, and a razor-sharp underworld hacker and fierce heiress stepped back into the light. Armed with secrets, elite tech, and a burning desire for vengeance, Eva is ready to show her ex-husband and his precious bride what it means to cross a queen. No more playing nice. The divorce papers are signed, the stakes are lethal, and the heiress is back to take it all.

I kept a list. Ninety-eight times my husband chose another woman over me.

Missed birthdays, ruined anniversaries, broken promises—all for his "patient" Sophia, who seemed to have a medical emergency every time we had plans.

"It's just my job, Emma," he would say. "You understand."

Ryan thought he could have his cake and eat it too. He was wrong.

After an incident, I was determined to leave him, and before I left, I gave him an unforgettable "gift."

My five-year-old son had never hugged me first.

Whenever I reached for him, Ian stepped back, lowered his eyes, and politely told me I could go.

I thought he didn’t want me.

Then, on the night I was supposed to die, a mysterious reader thread appeared on my phone.

Look at him pretending he doesn’t care.

He wants his mother to stay so badly—but if he gets too emotional, his wolf ears will appear.

I canceled dinner and crouched in front of him.

“I’m staying home tonight.”

Hope lit his face before he could hide it.

Then he asked the question that broke my heart.

“Only tonight?”

The folder slid across the table toward Hannah's husband. Sign here. Family helps family.

What the Whitfields never once thought to wonder was that the quiet daughter-in-law they'd spent four years bleeding had almost three million dollars they couldn't see.

She'd hidden it for one reason: to keep the only good man in that family from being turned into their wallet.

Now they wanted his signature. His house. His name on their debt.

They had spent a lifetime underestimating the quiet one.

They were about to learn what that costs.

I'm an OB-GYN. On Valentine's Day, I pulled a ring out of a woman's vagina.

It turned out to be my husband's wedding ring.

An hour before, he'd texted me. Said he loved me. Said he was too busy with work to come home.

I wanted a divorce. Needed one. But then I found out—our marriage was never registered.

In his manor, I was nothing. Just a fake wife.

He grabbed me by the throat—right in front of his mistress. Called me "damaged goods." Said I'd spent a year in another man's house.

But that year, I went as a hostage in his place.

I ran. Made it to the cliff's edge, covered in blood. And the man who saved me? The mafia godfather who'd held me captive that whole year.

He looked at me. "Marry me."

Travis Savage and I were a notorious public pair, bound together by nothing but hatred.

In the glittering, indulgent world of Chicago, he was an untouchable mafia king who ruled with absolute power, making and breaking rules on a whim. And I? I was the wife he loathed above all others in his criminal empire.

It all started when my parents lost their lives saving him, gunned down by his rivals. After their deaths, he kept me close as I grew up, and eventually, our marriage became what everyone expected. For a long time, he was my only anchor in this lonely world.

Once, he’d knelt before me and sworn to protect me for the rest of my life.

Now, he hated me.

He hated that I refused to sign the divorce papers, that I stood in the way of him running off with Renee Sutton — the orphan girl he claimed to have rescued off the streets.

He let her walk all over me and flaunt herself openly in front of me. To get back at them, I leaked their sordid secrets overnight across all of Chicago: their flirty messages, their hotel stays. Word spread through both the criminal underworld and high society alike, leaving the pair mocked and shunned by everyone.

Our marriage had rotted away years ago, worn thin by endless mutual resentment. It was stagnant, foul, and long dead.

Until three days ago.

A string of ambushes left Travis a hunted man. While swerving to avoid an oncoming truck, he was involved in a devastating car crash.

He lay unconscious in the ICU for three full days. When he woke, he claimed he’d forgotten every ounce of the nine years of hatred between us. In his mind, he was still nineteen — the age when he loved me with everything he had.

In my past life, I was tricked into a trap by my neighbor, my leg broken, and thrown into acid rain to die. Reborn, I returned to nine months before the acid rain apocalypse. Meteorites struck, radiation contaminated, water sources dried up, and civilization collapsed. I still had one last chance to save myself and reverse the future. When I mortgaged my house, borrowed heavily from loan sharks, and finally found the water purification engineer whom everyone considered crazy, I was met with merciless ridicule. Faced with humiliation, I simply smiled faintly—"Do you know when water is more precious than gold?"

My husband Ronald's best friend Clyde died three months ago, and with his last breath, he made Ronald promise to take care of his pregnant widow, Jennifer. From that moment, Jennifer invaded our lives, and I was only four months pregnant at the time.

Then Jennifer got caught in a gang shootout. She needed an emergency blood transfusion, and she had this rare blood type—Rhnull. Turns out, I'm Rhnull too.

To save Jennifer and her baby, Ronald forced me to abort mine.

I thought my husband was my salvation.
Until I overheard him in the wine cellar, laughing and joking with my "attackers" from that night.
The gang rape that destroyed me was a show he orchestrated himself.

He married me only for inheritance rights.
He humiliated me, branded me, took away my child, and made my life a living hell.
But he forgot one thing—
The ancient blood oath of the Corleone family states clearly:
If a husband betrays his marriage, everything he owns shall belong to his wife.

This time, I'm no longer the rabbit waiting to be slaughtered.
This time, I write the ending.

I was the orphan Hayes Holt pulled from the foster system, the girl he raised for eight years.
In my past life, I drowned in his suffocating tenderness, mistaking his guardianship for love. When he brought Josie Rowe home and announced their engagement, I snapped.
I threw a hysterical fit, screaming my unrequited love until the scandal bled into every gossip rag in New York.
My reward was his cold disgust. Labeled "sick," I was shipped off to a psychiatric ward, where I died strapped to a table, my brain fried by forced ECT.
The very next day, Hayes gave Josie the Manhattan wedding of the century. To the world, I became nothing but a cautionary tale: the delusional slut who tried to seduce her adoptive father.
But fate pulled me back. Back to the exact moment I ruined my life. Back to the fatal question:
"Can't we be more than just father and daughter?"
Across the dining table, the ruthless CEO of Holt Holdings was painstakingly peeling a shrimp for me. At my words, his long fingers froze.
"Excuse me?"
In my past life, I missed the flash of pure disgust in his eyes and just cried, begging for his love.
But now, hearing his icy tone, the phantom stench of my own burning flesh filled my nostrils. A violent shudder ripped through me. Digging my nails into my palms, I forced a flawless smile and pulled my plate away.
"Dad," I said, the word tasting like ash. "Didn't you tell me to grow up? I can peel them myself. I won't bother you anymore."

Fifteen days after my death, Morningstar Town was annihilated.
What destroyed this steel fortress wasn't the tens of thousands of zombies outside, but three insignificant things:
a bottle of whiskey used to bribe the security guards; half a can of wasted beef beans; and, my wife .
The townspeople, finding my "Laws of Survival" too harsh, strangled me to gain "freedom."
So I floated in the sky, watching them tear apart the safety net, watching them boil their neighbors in hunger, watching the very foundations of humanity crumble into dust.
The show began.

Everyone knows how much Gideon Moretti loves his wife Isabella.

We built this empire together—from street enforcers to rulers of all five boroughs of New York. He promised me the world.

I believed him.

For five years, I took bullets for him. Bled for him. Sacrificed everything so he could become the king of this city.

Then, just days before our fifth anniversary—on the same day I found out I was pregnant—I saw a video.

Gideon, in a bridal boutique, his hand on another woman's waist. Helping her choose a wedding dress.

Daisy. His first love.

Turns out, she's been back for two months. Every "business trip" he took? He was with her.

I made my decision that night. I would leave. Take our baby and disappear.

My child would not grow up in a house built on lies.

The day my wife, Hollywood’s newly crowned Best Actress, landed an S-tier deal, she arrogantly tossed a separation agreement in my face.

“I’m moving into Beverly Hills. A salaried office worker like you will only drag down my status. If you can’t come up with a ten-million-dollar mansion, then get out of my life.”

She thought she had latched onto a media tycoon, and eagerly signed the “fake divorce loan” agreement I had tailored just for her.

What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t just the pathetic husband she thought I was. I was also a quantitative strategist from Wall Street, a man who could turn the markets upside down.

That ten million dollars became the seed capital I used to short the tycoon backing her.

When she was ruined at her movie premiere, burdened with crushing debt, and crawled barefoot like a stray dog up to the hillside mansion, begging hysterically for me to remarry her, I was already toasting a successful acquisition with my Wall Street partner.

Then I watched coldly as the security guards threw her into the Los Angeles night like a piece of rotten industrial waste.

I was employee No.001, building his startup with him right from the garage.
Then a subordinate draped in an IvyLeague aura arrived, and he pushed me ruthlessly aside.
Crushed by betrayal, I fled eight hundred miles to Seattle and rebuilt my career at a rival tech giant. When anonymous online smears sought to ruin my reputation, I unmasked every one of her lies.
He fell from his CEO throne. I stepped into my welldeserved spotlight, and I will never be anyone’s second choice.

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

My name is Evelyn. I grew up in the slums. Now, I'm the wife of Victor De Luca, head of New York's most feared mafia family.
Outsiders say I left him for money when he had nothing, then shamelessly came crawling back once he rose to power.
Only Victor and I know the truth. He paid five million dollars to drag me back, chain me here like a dog, and lock me away.
He married me, trapped me in this estate, and found new ways to break me every day.
He brought his mistress into our bed. He used his power to grind what was left of my dignity into dust.
But there's one thing he doesn't know.
I'm dying.
I have an inherited bone marrow failure disorder. The same disease that drained my mother dry. Now it's my turn.
Five years ago, I took the money and walked away. I let everyone call me every name they wanted because I couldn't make him watch me waste away.
I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of pain.
But it doesn't matter anymore.
This long, slow torture is almost over.

I catch my husband in bed with the live-in housekeeper.

He shoves her behind him. "She's only twenty. Barely out on her own, doesn't know any better. Can't you be the bigger person here?"

His mother points a finger in my face. "You're an orphan. If we hadn't taken you in, you'd still be out on the street begging."

"Be smart about this. Make room for Kaylee, so we can all live under one roof in peace."

They've both forgotten that back then he couldn't even make rent, and I worked three jobs to build his company for him.

Forgotten the year his company was going under, when I ran to three different banks across the city in a downpour chasing investors, passed out in the street, and lost the baby.

Four whole years of them looking down on me after that.

I say I want a divorce.

Preston just laughs at me. "You're a housewife. Walk out that door and you'll starve on the sidewalk by tomorrow."

I drag my suitcase onto the overnight bus and go home to a place I haven't set foot in for ten years.

It's the middle of the night when I get there. The streets are empty. Three men reeking of liquor block my way.

That hand is about to touch my face when a Harley roars up and stops right beside me.

The muscled guy on it has a cigarette in his mouth. He looks me over. "Need a hand?"

For three years, I paid so my sister could rebuild her life — her rent, her lawyers, her hospital bills, the shop she now runs in my name. Lucas, my fiance, always told me it was the right thing to do. I believed him, because believing him was easier than admitting how tired I was. I flew home two days early to surprise him. Instead, I opened my own front door and found my sister in his lap, wearing my robe, laughing in a voice I'd paid to keep happy for years. Ninety-nine empty perfume bottles stood along the wall — quiet witnesses to nights I never knew existed. Lucas didn't apologize. He asked me to be more understanding. My sister cried and called me cruel. I stood in the apartment I bought, surrounded by the people I built a home for, and realized I had never once been the one who got to be loved first.

"Mom, I don't need a baby brother or sister. I already have a sister."
I happily pulled out a pair of baby shoes, only for my seven-year-old son to violently snatch them and slam them into the trash can.
It was in that exact moment I discovered that the Alpha leader I had deeply loved for eight years had built a lavish underground mansion long ago—housing his mistress and secret daughter!
And my "obedient" son had been joining his father there every single month, playing happy family with them!
When the shock caused me to hemorrhage, leaving me lying alone on a freezing operating table undergoing a miscarriage, my husband was off comforting his mistress and illegitimate daughter.
In that instant, my love shattered completely. I relinquished custody of my son, left a signed divorce agreement, and walked away without looking back.

Minutes before the Stanford Hackathon began, my childhood friend decided to bail to help his girlfriend shoot a TikTok video.

I was just about to stop him when his inner voice suddenly exploded in my head: 'I actually got reborn?'

'Last time, I listened to Maeve and stayed for the competition, securing my spot at Stanford. But Sloane went to Malibu alone to shoot her video and fell off a cliff!"

'Even though I pushed Maeve off a roof to avenge her, I still lost the love of my life.'

'This time, I'm not losing Sloane. If Maeve dares to stop me again, I'll make her pay with her life all over again!'

My blood ran cold, and the words of persuasion died in my throat.

If he wanted his tragic romance so badly, he could have it.

In my past life, my Mafia Don husband left me and our unborn baby to burn just to save my half-sister.

Reborn, I watched him crush my fingers in a door to protect her once again.

"Hurt her, and we get a divorce," he sneered.

He thought the threat would break me. He didn't know his signature was already on the divorce papers hidden in my bag.

On the day of their lavish wedding, I took the hand of his deadliest rival, looked down from a helicopter, and pressed the detonator to his estate.

I am the Don Dante's wife, but my life runs through my husband's underboss who always seduce my husband, Elena.
I can't wear a coat without Elena's passcode.
My cards are monitored. My cash is approved. Dante calls it protocol. He calls it protection. He never asks why I wear the same faded sweater in winter.
I swallowed every humiliation because my mother's ventilator depended on his signature.
But Elena intentionally delayed funds for my mother’s medical treatment.
The brutal clash made me miscarry.
My mother died alone without timely treatment. I stopped filing all daily spending applications for three days straight.
Today he calls, calm and condescending, telling me the medical accounts are restored.
He thinks I'll fall back into line.
He doesn't know the only thing I'm requesting now is a signature—his, on the divorce papers.

I'd been out of Coldwater for two weeks when my family asked me to go back behind silver.

"It's three nights," Mom said. "You did three years. Three nights won't kill you."

They had no idea it would. I'm dying. The only thing still holding my body together is my mate bond, and three nights away from Silas is all it will take.

For three years in Coldwater, a parcel came for me every month. A blanket, a sweater—something that smelled like home. I slept wrapped in them every night, sure it meant my family hadn't given up on me.

It was my twin sister who sent them.

I didn't know what she'd soaked them in.

In my past life, I kindly took in my girlfriend and brother, only to be pushed into a torrent of acid rain and melted alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back a month before the apocalypse, only to find that my girlfriend had also been reborn! She was secretly plotting on the balcony to drain my assets to build her and her best male friend's post-apocalyptic love nest? I scoffed, decisively sold all my possessions, and bought a private island in the Pacific to build a top-tier fortress. When the mutated red rain descended and zombies swept the globe, I sipped iced whiskey in a temperature-controlled greenhouse, quietly watching that despicable couple starve and die in their Los Angeles penthouse, tearing each other apart like wild dogs for survival…

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

I had the gift of beast-speech, and beasts never lied to me.
When my sister, Valora, brought me a wild berry tart, a forest finch shrieked, "Poison!" In my past life, I believed it. I flipped the tray, cursed her, and was thrown into the dungeon like a madwoman. In this life, I did the opposite. I ate it. I vomited blood, and my spirit wolf died instantly.
When it was time to marry, a raven warned me that my Alpha fiancé was a "disfigured madman." In my past life, I broke the engagement and married a Beta, only to be tortured to death by him and his mistress. In this life, I insisted on marrying the Alpha. But on my wedding night, a blood-soaked, disfigured monster was waiting for me.
When my mother-in-law, Liora, coughed up blood in front of everyone, a nightingale cried, "Give her White Dittany for the poison!" In my past life, I force-fed her the herb, and she bled from her eyes and died. In this life, I stopped anyone from giving her the herb. But that night, she died anyway.
Listen to them, and I die. Ignore them, and I still die.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had been reborn, back to the exact moment everything went wrong...

My pre-wedding party was in full swing.

 

Yet, the center of attention wasn't me, but Julian's childhood sweetheart, Blair. She had just announced she was auctioning off her "first kiss."

 

My fiancé, Julian, bought that kiss without a second thought.

 

Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd, they locked lips. They looked like the perfect match, made in heaven.

 

In that moment, I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene.

 

I casually pulled out my phone and replied to the email from the Paris headquarters: "I accept. I am ready to start immediately."

I made Sebastian Grant date me for a year because I'd saved his life.
Even though he couldn't stand me, I pressed myself against him when he tried to leave, traced my fingers down his chest when he turned away.
When his friends talked trash, I left marks on his neck and sent him out where everyone could see them.
Then an anonymous text arrived: [I'm the one you saved that day. Not Sebastian.]
The photo attached turned my face white.
What would Sebastian do when he found out?

On my birthday, my husband hands me a snow-white hamster with a smile and says keeping it in the house will bring us good luck.

My seven-year-old son names it Snow.

But the second I see its red eyes, my blood runs cold.

Because in my last life, I got the exact same gift on this exact same day.

Back then I treated it like something precious. I fed it the best food, bought it the biggest cage, cleaned out the shavings every single day.

And every night it burrowed into my blankets, bit through the skin at my wrist and my throat, and drank my blood a little at a time until there was almost none left.

I begged my husband to get rid of it. All he said was that I was paranoid, that I was faking being sick to get attention.

My son planted himself in front of the cage and screamed that Snow was better behaved than me.

Then, on our wedding anniversary, I collapsed in the bathroom and never woke up.

My spirit drifted near the ceiling, and only then did I finally see it.

That hamster climbed down off my body and turned into a woman in a white dress, and threw herself into my husband's arms.

His eyes went red and he said now that she'd drained me dry, she could finally take her real shape again.

My son ran to her and sweetly called her "Hamster Mommy."

It turned out the thing was my husband's old love, the one who'd died young. He'd used black magic to hide her inside a pet's body.

And I was nothing but a container. A blood supply.

Now my eyes are open again, and the cut on my finger is still warm.

This time, I won't let a single one of them get away.

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"The scouts are coming tomorrow, and you want to ditch the regional finals just to take care of her after a botched cosmetic procedure?"

I tipped off the school board to stop him from ruining his life.

Because of me, he won the championship and secured his draft pick. But because he stood her up, his girlfriend dumped him.

Years later, he sat at the top of a billion-dollar sports enterprise, while I was a researcher working for him.

Out of nowhere, he brought a carbon-fiber hockey stick down on my hands, crushing my finger bones to splintered dust

"Maeve, you cold, calculating machine," he spat. "This is your karma."

When I opened my eyes again, the agonizing pain was gone.

I had just been given a second chance.

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

I used to believe my husband was my hero. When Julian Miller’s empire was falling apart, I made a desperate choice to save him. I spent a night in the suite of his fiercest competitor, Arthur Vance. Julian called me his hero and said he trusted me.

But he was lying to me for five long years.

Everything changed in an instant. Watching our daughter hang from a broken roller coaster, Julian didn’t attempt to save her. Instead, he reached for his phone to call his mistress.

To him, she wasn’t a child in peril; she was just a chance to wipe out a 'mistake' and start fresh with someone who had been in our lives since the very beginning of our marriage.

Now, people see me as a heartbroken mother and an ashamed wife. Julian thinks he’s buried me under his web of lies and his influence. But he overlooked one crucial point: I have nothing more to lose, and I'm ready to settle a score.

With the one man Julian fears most by my side, I’m stepping back into the light. And by the time I’m through, he’ll understand that the woman he treated like a pawn is the very one who will bring his whole world crashing down.

For two years I was Easton's secret girlfriend. I paid his tuition. I took a beating from the guys who came for him. I gave up my MIT interview so he could chase what he wanted.
Then I heard him behind a half-open door, kissing my best friend.
"Last life she clung to me like a lunatic. This life I'm not making that mistake again."
Last life. They'd both been reborn—come back with every memory of a life I don't even remember living—and somewhere in it, they'd decided I was the desperate girl who ruined everything.
Fine.
I went back to my desk, pulled the MIT acceptance I'd been about to turn down, and signed it.
Easton, I'll let you have her.
He spent two lifetimes sure he was the smart one. He's about to find out which of us was holding back.

To fulfill my twin sister Chloe’s arranged marriage, I became Landon Moore’s stand-in bride.
For three years, I played the role of the gentle, obedient wife—cooking soup to warm his stomach, sharing his bed on lonely nights, and even taking care of his beloved ‘sister’, Shannon. When he was drunk and stumbled into my room, I endured it all in silence.
Everyone mocked me for being pathetic, a dog begging for scraps of affection. Even Landon sneered coldly, “I will never love you.”
Until the day he stabbed me three times—for Shannon. The world blurred into a sea of blood. I smiled as I closed my eyes, took the fifty million he transferred to me, and vanished without a trace.
Years later, he found me deep in the mountains, kneeling in the mud like a madman, begging me to come home. But by then, I had built schools, with my grandmother, lived a life that glowed with its own light.

On the third anniversary of our bond, I pushed open the private room door, my heart full of hope—only to see Chisel on one knee, leaning in to kiss Sylvia. In that instant, every thread of love and trust inside me snapped.
“What are you doing?” My voice trembled; tears blurred my vision.
Chisel looked up at me, eyes full of irritation. “Enough, Leah. Stop putting on that wounded look. We were just playing a game. I lost, that’s all. Why are you angry?”
I could no longer bear the betrayal. After losing our pup, something inside me died completely. I decided to break the mate bond, to end this painful, scarred union once and for all.
Even as Chisel kept apologizing, swearing he would change, I no longer believed him. My voice went cold:
“Even if I forgive you, our pup never will.”
I left the home that had once been full of love and hope, flying toward a new world that would be mine alone.

Kaelani spent her life believing she was wolfless.
Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans.
She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice.

But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes.

Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin—
summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire.

When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin.

For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted.
Seen.
Chosen.

Until he leaves her the next morning—
like a secret never to be spoken.

But Kaelani is not what they thought.
Not wolfless. Not weak.
There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking.

And when it does—
they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase.

Especially him.

She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive.

Because secrets never stay buried.
And neither do dreams.

Sex has always been fine. Rachel Turner is 29, and she's done with being fine.
When her cousin lets slip a whispered story about three masked men, an invite code and a form that asks what you really want, Rachel does the reckless thing. She tells the truth, all 14 pages of it. Every craving she's never said out loud. Every hard limit. One stop word: lighthouse.
Jimmy, Ricky and Hank are ex-army security men with a very private side venture. They're invited only and vetted to the bone, and they turn down 9 out of 10 forms. They give a woman four days to be watched, hunted and taken exactly the way she asked. They have one rule they've never broken: when the window closes, they leave.
Then they read Rachel's form.
From 12:01 a.m. Tuesday to midnight Friday, she belongs to North, East and South. They find her in her own bed, then on a mirrored floor in a canal house on the Isle of Capri. They chase her through a twilight market, 20 metres behind her, always there. Every limit is honoured, and every yes is pushed further than she dreamed. The more of herself Rachel hands them, the harder it gets for three men who swore they'd never stay.
But someone else has been watching. A man inside their own company knows exactly what they've been doing after dark, and he wants a cut.
Four days. Three masks. One woman who finally asked for everything.
The window always closes. This time, nobody wants to leave.
When They Come is an explicit, high-heat why-choose-romance set on the Gold Coast. It has consensual non-consent, masked men, stalking play and fierce aftercare, and it builds to a happily ever after for all four of them. 18+ only.

Three super-rich, New York Royalty, powerful, and notorious with women. Three stories of how they take charge of a billion-dollar empire, fulfill their women’s dream, and find true love in unexpected ways.
The life of ambitious and notorious playboy CEO is shocked to the core when a woman in a death bed has him promised one thing—the very least he’s expected—or shall he say, even the hell freezes—to get married for 1095 days.
It’s the last thing he wants. Well, he has everything, literally, but who can resist the beauty of a town girl with big blue eyes staring at him? He starts fantasizing about her. But there’s something from his past that might link him to her, and that can change whatever they feel forever.
It’s always been her—the redhead, best friend is off-limits. Years later, he never expects that she becomes his assistant—the now gorgeous, smart, irresistible, and… cold. But something’s telling him that he’s willing to bend the rules if it means to have his best friend back and maybe… even more.

Lisa Winston, a beautiful and hardworking waitress in Pennsylvania, meets billionaire Williams O'Connell, who she mistakenly believes is poor after he can't pay for his meal due to a stolen phone. Touched by her kindness, Williams becomes interested in her. Lisa's mother needs a costly surgery, and despite her desperation, a lecherous billionaire named Mr. Kendrick tries to take advantage of her. Williams rescues Lisa, leading to an unplanned night together.

At 23, Aeryn is already making waves in the scientific community—fair, bold, and driven by a relentless passion for the unknown. As part of a multinational team, she's been dedicated to the pursuit of one of humanity’s greatest questions: are we alone in the universe? The answer seems to be within reach when they pick up signals from a distant planet, confirming the existence of alien life. But as the team prepares for the next step into a mission that requires sending a human to this otherworldly realm, they abandon Aeryn, leaving her behind just as the stakes reach their peak.

On the alien planet, Alex is as king,a being of immense strength and unparalleled powers. Yet, there’s a void, a missing piece that threatens not just his rule, but the survival of his entire kingdom. His powers are vast but insufficient until he gets coupled and consummates the bond with his chosen bride. Without this, his powers remain incomplete, and the very existence of his people teeters on the brink of extinction. The search for his queen becomes a race against time, with the fate of his kingdom hanging in the balance.

My family let me die. My fiancé watched. My sister smiled.
I was the real daughter, dragged from the orphanage to donate my bone marrow, then thrown away like garbage. When the monsters came for the imposter, they shielded her and left me to rot.
But death wasn’t the end. It was a deal.
I woke with a system tethered to my pulse—one that trades public admiration for the power to survive.​ And behind these hands are two identities they never suspected: the legend whose music they worship, and the ghost in the machine who owns their secrets.
They think I’m back to beg for love.
They’re wrong. I’m here to collect.
This time, I won’t just take back my music and my name. I’ll make them need me—right before I watch them lose everything.
They wanted me erased.
I’m about to become the only name that matters.

In my past life, I personally dug up two alien meteorites, handing the blue one that granted "Frost Mastery" to my childhood friend, Mike. He repaid me by sealing me inside an ice wall, cursing me to "die like a piece of trash" in the minus 70-degree blizzard.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the initial blast site.
This time, I didn't even spare him a glance; I stuffed both meteorites into my pocket.
I transformed a missile silo into a doomsday bunker, brought my parents inside, and stockpiled ten years' worth of supplies.
When Mike arrived with a gang of thugs to smash my door down, I stood in the warm command center, watching half his face rot with frostbite on the monitor.
I didn't open the door.
This time, I am sending back the despair of my past life tenfold.

To save my terminally ill wife and daughter, I drained half my wolf blood and tore out my own right fang.
Stripped of my source power, I became a worthless wolf despised by the entire clan.
My wife cast me out of the den, pinching her nose at the stench of rot on me; my daughter threw stones at me, cursing me with hatred as a blind, useless failure.
Together, they set their eyes on another young, strong Alpha. They let him trample my dignity in public, and finally had me brutally slaughtered on the frozen wasteland.
But they never knew, the reason that man could make their souls submit and fall for him was that his veins ran entirely with my heart's blood.
Only when I was reduced to a boneless husk of a wolf did my wife go mad, clawing her own gland raw, weeping and begging me to leave her one last mark.

In her previous life, Clara Bennett was switched at birth and ended up in the hands of a greedy adoptive family. Betrayed and used, she met a tragic end.

Given a second chance, Clara chooses to walk away from the Bennett family and returns to her poor but loving biological parents, the Howards. Everyone thinks she'll regret giving up her life as a wealthy heiress.

But no one expected the truth—Clara is actually the CEO of a powerful corporation. Not only does she lift the Howards out of poverty, she also marries the heir of a billionaire family.

This time, she's not just surviving. She's reclaiming her life and rewriting her destiny.

Ashley Carter never imagined her wedding day would end with her being kidnapped by a total stranger. Even more confusing? The man who took her, Charles Blackwood, claims she's his bride. But Ashley has never seen him before in her life.

Charles, a powerful and cold-hearted CEO, is used to getting what he wants—and now, he wants Ashley. Though she doesn't remember him, he's determined to make her his, body and soul. He showers her with relentless affection and overwhelming desire, leaving her no room to escape his grasp.

Ashley tries to resist his overbearing charm, but Charles is persistent. Every touch, every kiss, pulls her deeper into a world of passion and obsession. She may not know who he is, but he's about to make sure she never forgets him again.

But can love truly grow from such a twisted beginning? Or is she just a pawn in his dangerous game of desire?

“My world is a mess; you want nothing to do with this"
“You don't have the right to decide that for me." Her chest was heaving, harsh breaths scraping the walls of her nose. “I am your wife, and I am choosing to be in your mess."
He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer. “This is your last chance. Once you step in, I can never let go."
"I'm not planning on it."

Jade Saint, who was switched at birth, is coerced into an arranged marriage after returning to the Sterling home. That is, until Roman Volkov – the richest and most dangerous man in the city – claims her as his bride.
Desperate to save her dying adoptive mother, she willingly enters into a contract marriage with the devil himself.
But marriage to Roman is not what she thinks it is – not the enemies lurking in the shadows. Not the dangerous world he refuses to explain, and certainly not the way his cold touch begins to feel like a promise instead of a warning.
Because the more she tries to understand him, the more she realises he didn’t choose her by accident.
And the truth behind it all may destroy her.

Moira wasn't the Luna he wanted. To strengthen the alliance, her father sacrificed her with a classic trap so that she could marry Alpha Jude Hammer from The Night Hunter Pack.
The plan worked, but for seven years, Moira felt no happiness or love from Jude. Then, one day, she finds out the reason—Jude has found his fated mate.
Heartbroken, especially since she had lost everything, Moira filed for divorce, left the company, and started a new life.


I was startled by the commotion outside the apartment. It was unusually quiet for eight o’clock, and the sound I heard... I decided to check it out.
Someone was standing at the door, which I opened hastily to confirm. Instead of peace, I found a new problem.
Jude held the door, forcing his way in and locking it. He closed the distance between us, pinning me against the wall, so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, so stiff and tight.
My heart skipped a beat, not because of lingering love for him, but because I felt disturbed by his presence.
"What the hell are you doing here, Jude? You have Bella, don't drag me in. You shouldn't be here," I snapped, but it didn't faze him at all.
"Screw Bella! I came to confirm something." He moved again, closer, so that our lips almost touched.
“Are you drunk? Go home. You will only cause me problems. We'd been divorced, remember?” I said, trying to gently push him away.
“What? Divorced? Don’t even think about it, Wifey. I didn't sign it. NEVER. Means, you’re still my wife. You're MINE.”

This story is about a young girl trying to find her way out from under her mothers roof and away from her pimp. She is still a high school student who is just trying to survive under the same roof as her mother and her mothers pimp. All she was is to continue to be invisible, but her body and her mothers pimp are determined to break her every step of the way.